Boys and Women
by DeLiRiOuS aka CAPTAIN obvious
Summary: Harry Potter finds a naked girl on his lawn. What lengths will he go to save her? What lengths will she go to destroy him? HH
1. Chapter 1

**Boys and Women**

_"Nothing is destined to be Hermione...there's no 'magical' intervention on our sides here! We're just two ordinary people...a boy and a girl! That's it. That's all. Now go before you get yourself burned at the stake"_

Frank Bryce was only a humble gardener in service of the Potter family for over fifty years. Though his job description only cited him as a weed whacker, he had become much more to the esteemed Potters. He had kept their secrets- he had kept them safe. In such dangerous times no one could afford to have one speckle of dirt on their cheeks or there'd be hell to pay. Throughout the generations, he had kept the confidence of all three Lord Potters but the newest lord proved to be the most worthy of trust. Harry Potter was dignified, courageous, and true. It was what probably saved him from being swallowed up by English society. Frank only hoped his nature would not lead to his downfall. There were so many secrets locked in the Potter residence that any man could go insane under the weight of them. The guilt could kill.

It occurred to Frank as he glanced out of his window that he had no business thinking on his lord. His energy was better spent remaining a gardener until another secret arose. As he motioned to close his tattered drapes, something caught his eye. On the far side of the lawn lay a strange object. He forced his old eyes to identify the strangely shaped thing, but could not. With a grumble of annoyance, Frank reached for his crooked cane and tiredly went to investigate. As he crossed the lawn, Frank covered his mouth and quickened his pace. The thing appeared to be a human form carelessly thrown upon the wet grass.

A naked girl was visible by moonlight as Frank stood above her. Her face was covered by a swarm of bushed hair and her body was contorted in a strange position. Her upper body shamefully exposed to his old eyes, while her lower body twisted to show her bare bottom. Out of decency, Frank tore off his shirt and covered the girl's womanhood. With cracking joints, He bent down beside her and checked her pulse. She was nearly dead, but a heart beat faintly. He pitied the poor girl, and could only imagine she was bird of paradise clipped by malevolent lover, left for dead.

Frank immediately traveled up to the estate through the servants quarters. Stillness controlled the area and Frank knew the servants slept. Frank quietly made his way to Lord Potter's chambers. He had not visited that wing of the estate since the death of Harry's father and was nervous to return. He reached the door and quietly knocked.

"Come in" Frank turned the knob and stepped into a lush world of gold and crimson. He found his master slumped over an assortment of parchment, quills, and books separate from the finery. Managing a large estate on his own was not something Lord Potter was equipped to do and did not relish in its luxuries so well as others.

Harry lifted his tired green eyes with surprise to see a shirtless yard hand. Too drained to laugh at the ridiculous state of his servant, Harry just smirked.

"Frank, how intimate of you" A hint of smile on his lips. The smile quickly disappeared when he noticed the serious look on Frank's face.

"Sir, there be a situation."

* * *

The winds had picked up as Harry dragged Frank to explore the "situation". Harry's mind was lost between the financial ordeal he was attempting to iron out and the new scandal that was rising in his own home. A naked harlot was occupying his yard and he was famous enough without this news buzzing around society.

Cold air slapped his cheeks as he came to an abrupt stop. Wind swirled thick locks of hair around a frozen face. The shirt Frank had given her was long gone and Harry spotted goose bumps trailing down her skin. Without thought he snapped off his black robe and grabbed the girl and wrapped her in it. He ignored the nervousness and guilt that came with touching her body without permission, but given the circumstances... In the same movement he hoisted her into his arms and glanced at Frank.

"Go ahead and make sure none of the servants are up. She must not be seen." Without a word Frank hobbled up to the house to survey the place for late night dwellers.

Harry cursed his bad luck. There seemed to be trouble on every turn, and he alone was asked to bear the burden. He wrangled with how to properly handle the problem. Society had taught him to order Frank to chuck the girl in the lake, but that was more brutal than he could bear. Harry's heart could not allow him to take the simple way out. He had to help the girl, despite possible scandal. She was still a person in need despite her obvious occupation.

He chanced a real look at her and found a surprise. Her face was too innocent and practical to be that of a wanton woman. He also decided if Frank were correct and she was the victim of a lover's scorn then some marks would mar her skin. From his quick scan of her earlier he had seen nothing to support that claim. And why would anyone leave her in his lawn? Why not kill her and dispose of the body? Too many things did not add up and he supposed he would not know the answers until she woke- if she did.

The wind carried Frank's call and Harry hastily traveled past the servants' quarters up to his private wing of the estate. He placed her in his room- the only place he could keep an eye on her. The only room a chambermaid would not go in without Harry's permission. He carefully placed her in his bed, with his robe still clinging to her icy skin. He hoped the bedding and fire would warm her, because he refused to touch her bare body again. He was still a decent man.

He turned to Frank who lingered at his door. "Frank, I do not have to ask you to keep this quiet." With a nod to the affirmative, Harry sighed relief.

"Do you need anything Sir?"

"A lighted path." Harry muttered under his breath as he ushered the gardener out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Boys and Women**

_"Nothing is destined to be Hermione...there's no 'magical' intervention on our sides here! We're just two ordinary people...a boy and a girl! That's it. That's all. Now go before you get yourself burned at the stake"_

* * *

As sun rays streamed into the room through the drapes, Harry found himself slumped over his desk. He could not remember when he'd fallen asleep, but he could only imagine it was in the course of daydreaming of flinging himself off the roof and drifting in the air. He remembered admonishing himself, because those sorts of thoughts had men thrown in jail. 

Harry hoped last night's real events were a dream and prayed as he turned to his bed that there were no signs anyone had lain there. The weight of the world fell in his hands as a young girl lay in his bed. He rose and kneeled beside the bed. His cheeks flamed as he stared rudely. Apart from servant girls, Harry had had little contact with women.

Harry placed a tentative finger to the girl's neck and checked for a pulse. She slept like the dead and he wanted to know if she was among them. A strong beat thumped under his fingers. His fingers began to retreat when a hand suddenly grabbed his wrist. He looked down in surprise as her eyes flew open. She had been feigning sleep.

"How dare you!" she growled. She shot up and released his wrist immediately. Harry was speechless, but determined to look in control. Despite his resolve, Harry stuttered on an answer. Before he could make any sort of sense of himself, she'd slapped him clear across the face.

"What was that for?"

"For attempting to compromise my honor."

"Your honor?" Anger began to fester within him. He'd housed this awful creature in his home and suddenly he was a pervert.

"Yes," she answered primly. She drew his robes tighter to her bosom and attempted to pat down her beastly hair. She drew up her body with a composed air and stared down at him pointedly.

"I found you nude in the grass, but your honor is at stake?" he asked incredulously as he nursed his swore cheek. The horror painted on her face was almost enough revenge.

"I have never been nude on anyone's property in my entire life you rogue! It is clear that you have undressed me and ruined my maidenhood. I have been sitting here thinking of how to punish you: send you to authorities, curse you or force your hand. I have decided to the latter of the three."

"What?" He managed to sputter. No one had ever spoken to so, and her implications were outrageous.

"I think we shall wed in the winter." She threw in casually. She spoke so easily on the subject as if she went around fooling men into marrying her everyday.

"There will be no wedding." He said through clenched teeth. Harry finally understood what sort she was. She tricked rich men to spoil her with gifts and security. She'd evilly thrown herself upon his household, knowing fully that he'd have to oblige all of her wishes lest she incite a scandal. What devilry was this? He'd allowed such a monster into his bed and cared for her.

The girl's lips tightened into a flat line. She looked murderous. "I had hoped that you were a decent man, but I was mistaken. You steal my maidenhead, then refuse to honor me." Angry tears shouted out of her eyes, as the girl flung herself out of the bed and headed for the door.

Harry was almost obliged to let her leave, but feared a barefoot criminal parading herself around his estate. And, some part of him believed that she truly thought he'd raped her. She seemed geniunely shocked and humiliated, but he was almost sure she was an expert liar and cheat.

He started after her and grabbed her by the waist. He swung her around and slammed the door. She bellowed and scratched at his arms, while sinking her legs into his sides. She was clearly mad.

"DO NOT TOUCH ME!"

"WOULD YOU STOP SHOUTING!" He planted a firm hand over her mouth. She continued to wrestle free, so he pushed her against a wall.

"I'm not trying to hurt you. I promise on the souls of my dead parents that I have respected you. I found you naked and housed you in my home devil woman. Now do shut up." Harry, not a man of words, hated to explain himself to this thing, but feared she would alert the servants. Slowly, the creature stopped fighting. He let go of her mouth and glared at the teeth marks torn into his skin.

"I am not a devil woman." she growled.

"What I am expected to think? You mysteriously arrive in the night then throw wild accusations in my face. "

"Who are you?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Why have you come?"

"I don't know. The last thing I remember is waking here. "

"Where do you come from?" he asked.

"I cannot say."

"You cannot or will not?" He pressed. What was going on?

She glared at him. "What business of it is yours? I thank you for your generosity, but I must be on my way." she snapped.

Harry was all too keen on her doing just that, but knew she would not go far wearing only a black robe. "Fine," he snapped back, "but how far do you expect to get in my robe?"

Hermione had the sense to blush with embarrassment or anger- Harry couldn't tell. "You may have one of my mother's gowns."

Harry crossed the room and opened the door to an ajoined room. His parents' room still housed their possessions, and he grabbed his mother's simplest dress and slippers. He threw them at Hermione and shoved her into his parents' room to dress. She emerged looking less wild, which was enough to get her out of his house. They stared awkwardly at one another, their cheeks both bright red.

"Well then...Master ?" Hermione spoke. She strode across the room with a commanding presence, unlike any woman Harry had ever met. She curtsied beautifully, and looked at him expectantly. Even more embarrassed, Harry remembered he had not introduced himself. He bowed and told her his name. She managed an outline of of smile.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Lord-"

"Just Harry," He cut in. With all the foolishness between them formality seemed completely unnecessary.

"Goodbye Harry," she said.

Harry led her through his special exit. It was a hidden door in his bedroom that led to the forest. He gave her instructions on how to get to town, and offered her a few gold coins.

"That won't be necessary." She answered stiffly.

"You have no money and no place to stay. I beseech you to take the coins. I cannot allow you to leave on good faith without some security."

"A loan. One day I will repay you." Harry began to argue, but realized the proud woman would not accept any other away.

"One day." He answered as he turned back to his life.

* * *

He returned to his room and expected to fall into sleep. Unfortunately, he had an audience. 

"Frank." He addressed the gardener with irritation. Frank Bryce rarely brought good news.

"Sir, I merely came to inquire on the girl." Harry explained that the girl was hopefully far from the estate, which greatly displeased Frank.

"It came to me this morn that the young lady should not leave."

"Why?" Harry asked warily.

"The promise I made to your father was to keep you away from the danger. He entrusted your protection to me and I have failed him. I apologise Lord Potter."

"Harry," Harry corrected him absently. Protect him?

"What have you done Frank?"

"I have allowed destruction into your house. The girl...I had forgotten...so many years...so many lies" Frank's eyes began to glaze over as he dived into memories. Harry wanted to shake the man back into reality.

Frank shook his head and continued. "What I must tell you will destroy everything your grandfather has made. I pray you will not be destroyed in the process." The old man choked on a sob. He had promised James Potter that his son would never bare the burden James had tried so hard to bear. The burden killed James, and he never wanted the same fate for his only son. James must have known his blood was soaked in tragedy and nothing he could do would ever cleanse it. That same blood ran hard in his son's veins.

"Every Potter will be drenched in sorrow..."

"Frank..." The gardener's strangeness made Harry positive that everyone in the world had gone positively mad. This was getting absolutely stupid.

"The girl was an omen. I had forgotten that Lily promised her arrival. If I had only remembered last night I would have drove a stake straight through that creature's heart. She will destroy the House of Potter, that's what Lily said. That creature that slept in your bed is a demon. Her presence cast a spell on this house and her evil will not stop till she has killed you My Lord."

Harry could not believe it. Frank really had gone loony in his old age. Harry had feared that Frank had been working too long and had meant to pay Frank into retirement. The poor old man had lost his sense.

Frank knew Harry didn't believe him and begged him to believe. "H-Harry... do you remember your mother?"

Harry found the question strange but answered. "Slightly. She was a lovely and quiet woman. I remember her hair was black like mine."

Frank shook his head. "That was your stepmother, Hestia. Your mother's name was Lily Evans- the prettiest red rose I ever beheld."

"What lies do you speak? Hestia was my mother." Harry tired of the old man.

"Where do your green eyes hale from? Hestia eyes were blue as the sea and your father's eyes were muddy brown. What trickery makes green out of brown and blue?" He had to admit that he'd never given his eyes much thought, but that hardly meant Hestia was not his mother.

"And your scar? How do you expect such strange mark to be placed on your forehead? I doubt any creator would give ye such a birth mark." Frank now commanded Harry's attention. It was impossible, but...

"Who is Lily Evans?"

"A fine woman, a damn good mother, and a sorceress."

"Witch." Harry growled. How dare he insinuate his mother was devil.

"She was and her blood is your blood. You be a wizard Harry."

"Lie!" There were no words.

"It is up to you to come to terms with yourself boy. But this is no lie and this is only the beginning of the secrets in your house. Lily's screams echo quietly through these walls and her wronged spirit begs for retribution these twenty years. You are Lily's son and she promised the world would know if a descendant arrived. The descendant has come and you housed her in your bed."

"The magic pumps in your body, but it is bound. That girl came to set your magic free, and it's already begun."

"What has begun?" Harry cried desperately. It couldn't be true, but the old man seemed so sure. Maybe everyone had gone insane and Harry was next in line.

"The beginning of the end."

"Can it be stopped?" He felt there was no use fighting, and listened stoically to the whole thing.

"No, but if you are strong enough you will come out alive. Do not allow the truth to consume you Harry. That was your father's mistake- your father's end."

"How so?" Harry knew so little about his father, but hardly believed anything this man had to say about him. His father was happy, when he and his wife died suddenly...He was happy.

"There is magic all around us, but not the scary stuff of old wives' tales. The magic of life and of love resides within us all. A few of us are lucky enough to love and be loved enough in this world to extract the magic of life in us and harness it. Your mother used her love to heal people, better than any doctor. Her power to heal was too advanced to be natural- her concoctions were too effective. And she knew things...from time to time she knew things that no one ever told her. Her gifts only became stronger after your birth. Her love for you helped her see her own death and her husband's destruction. She knew."

"She was gifted... that didn't make her a witch." Harry couldn't believe that was coming out of his mouth, as though he actually felt she was real. Real or not being gifted didn't seem like such a bad thing to Harry. Not being much of anything himself, Harry really wouldn't know but he felt offended for his imaginary mother

"Yes it did. Her abilities were a testament to man's ignorance. She took the title of witch when it was forced on her, because it was better to be a witch than relinquish her gifts. Better to die a witch than die a traitor to her own heart." Harry couldn't help think that sounded very real for an imaginary person and Frank was too old to be that imaginative...Maybe...

"What became of her?" Harry asked numbly. He did have green eyes and Hestia had kept her distance. His father had too.

"That I cannot say. The one promise I must keep to your grandfather. The answer will be given in its proper time."

"What promise?" Was there any point to the entire conversation? Why end the story there where it started. Why lead Harry down a dead end?

"The promises I've held for each Potter. The promises I've broken to keep a burning family from the fire. I can say no more." The old man was winding down, but Harry needed another question- another answer.

"But Hermione...how does she fit into all of this?" His mind flashed back to the girl insistent on marrying him, then throwing a wild tantrum. She didn't seem much like destruction or anything but a pain in the bottom.

"She's of your kind. She can harness the love within her too...she can show you. But she will destroy everything you've ever known. You cannot let her loose, because she's of use to you." Harry admitted she did seem a bit soft in the head and if that was what being gifted was he would rather not.

"You just said she'd destroy me, so why would I want her back here?"

"She knows about Lily." That was all Frank needed to say. Frank nodded to Harry and let himself out. Harry sunk into his bed and hoped it was all a dream.

* * *

It was mid afternoon, when Harry woke. He almost laughed as he stood. He couldn't believe he'd allowed that old superstitious gardener to plant silly ideas in his mind. He had made plans to call upon Ron, and had nearly forgotten in all the foolishness. Ron promised at his mother's dinner party there would be eligible ladies there. Harry wasn't keen on marriage, but accepted it was another duty he must fulfill. 

Harry decided to take a new lease on the day and forget all of the rubbish he'd heard. He changed his clothes and went to the mirror to do something with his unruly mass of hair. "Hestia's hair" he thought. He attempted to comb it, when he stopped. His eyes were an alarming shade of green and his lightning scar was a bit odd.

Harry had never given much thought to them, or anything besides his hair before. His green eyes were foreign to him. He'd seen them on another face. He'd created that face many years ago in very early childhood. Harry was surprised at how lost memory had suddenly fell upon him like a brick on the head. He closed his lids as a fuzzy picture slide from his memory. He'd seen the picture in his dreams before. A woman's head was on fire and her eyes were the color of fresh grass. She smiled.

Harry had assumed she was a character from his early imagination. He never knew she was real. She couldn't be real. She couldn't be...his mother. She couldn't be dead. He couldn't be like her. Whatever she was...witch or prodigy...

Damn Frank Bryce. Damn Hermione Granger...wherever she was.

Harry grabbed his forehead. Who was he? Why had no one ever told him? He didn't need protection...not from who he really was. He was man, but no one told him what kind. All of a sudden, everything had changed, but he didn't want to whine about it. He was a man of action. He wanted to restore the peace that had been disrupted from his home. He need the simplicity that been taken from him. He was just a man and nothing more.

He needed to find that Hermione Granger again. He stormed out of the estate, and grabbed his horse. He rode into town, hoping that she hadn't disappeared in only a matter of hours. He rode to the inn and tied his horse to post. He walked up to the innkeeper and inquired about Hermione. Luckily, Hermione had checked in a few hours ago. She was still there. He could have his answers and be rid of her.

The innkeeper gave him her room number, and Harry quickly found the room and knocked on her door. She opened the door, and he forced himself in.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"What were you doing on my property last night. I know what you are and I know why you've come. Why did you do it?"

"It was not by choice. I was told to come to Little Hangleton, and I came. I followed the rules, and I ended up with you." she answered haughtily.

"What rules did you follow?" Her all knowing attitude was really starting to get on Harry's nerves. She was insufferable and he just wanted to be away from her.

"The books. They are the only things I have. I learned to follow them and they led me to you."

"Are you mad?"

"No. I found books written by Lily Evans. They're her journals actually. "

"Where did you find them?"

"She gave them to my father, because she was the only one who believed her. She taught him how to use her remedies to heal the sick with one condition. Lily gave my father her journals but told him to never open them. She told my father to hide them where he believed no one would find them. She believed that her descendant would discover them."

"And you found them?" She didn't seem like much of a descendant to Harry. Her hair was wild, her face strict, and a hand on her hip that resembled that of a school marm.

"When I was ten years old, I wandered into the forests. Some of the kids in town whispered that an old witch lived in a dilapidated cottage deep in the wood. Naturally, I did not believe such non sense. One day, I traveled through the forest and came upon the cottage. Some curiosity forced me to enter, but I saw nothing but rotted wooden walls and a decayed hay make shift bed. I left, but some force pulled me back. I couldn't fight my attraction, so I went back everyday. I discovered in an old trunk hundreds of books. I read every one, until I came down to the last couple. They were Lily's recipes to cure all sorts of ailments in the first two. The last journal was addressed to me."

Hermione took a breath, then began to recite from memory. "It read: _If my sight sees you clearly then you are called Hermione. You are my descendant. There are only a few of us still willing to accept our gifts. You will be an intelligent woman, and for that they will never love you and never take you. This is hard for any girl to accept, but do not lose resolve, because I need one favor of you. I need you to go to Little Hangleton a decade from now. There you will be named a demon- a witch, like myself. We are gifted and if we must be witches..."_

"Is that all she said?" Harry begged. The only words of his mother's weren't addressed to him. The only secret to his past wasn't given directly to him. He'd known so little.

"That is all I can tell you."

"Where are the journals?" If he could read his mother's words, touch the ink that once stained her fingertips, perhaps he could be stained in her like Hermione.

"They are safe, and that's all you need to know." Upon his look of frustration, she added "It's for your own good that you don't know."

"Then what became of her?" Lily Evans was his mother? Did he truly believe such ludicrous? Did he believe?

"You're not ready to know."

Harry exploded. What was he allowed to know? Why was everything some large secret? "What exactly am I allowed to know about my own life?"

"That witches are not evil. You are not evil. Magic is very faint in most of us, and barely noticeable. Magic is a case of heightened senses...being a bit better at things. We can manipulate things and make things change, but only a few ever know they're doing it. Only a few of us are powerful enough to be witches. Your mother was, I am and you are."

"I am not one of you. I am just a man. I only wish to live out my life in humility. Leave me be! You had no problem going earlier."

"I cannot go. Lily did not wish me to. I only left this morning, because I had forgotten who I was. Staying in that house made me forget what I really I am. It was as though my whole mission had been erased and in truth I cannot remember how I came to be in such a state of undress or unconsciousness. There is powerful magic surrounding that place and surrounding you. You can't see who you really are."

"I know who I am." Harry's own identity had never been so tested in day's period before. Why was he suddenly accused of an identity crisis?

"Do you?" she retorted. Harry was starting to wonder if he knew anything anymore, and switched the conversation around.

"What's so special about me? Why do you care?" Hermione had gone to great links to destroy a family on the word of a few diaries. What was her real motives?

"Because Lily wanted me to." She stated as though it was plainly obvious.

"Do you do what everyone wants you to?" He knew he'd hit a nerve when she stumbled over a reply.

"She's...special." she spat testily.

"Why?" If he could just press her more then he could get the truth.

"She's your mother." Hermione could find no other reason.

"I never got the chance to know that," he yelled.

"It's not my fault, so don't shout at me. Start looking towards your own family. They're the ones that lied to you."

"What do you mean?" How dare she accuse his family of anything!

"Doesn't it ever occur to you that your scar is rather oddly shaped. Isn't it more odd that a witch's son was allowed to live? Why wasn't such an abomination killed in infancy? Why did your father not have more children, with his 'normal' second wife to replace you? Furthermore, why did your father get remarried in the first place? And why is there no trace of Lily anywhere except in your eyes?"

"For someone who was sent to enlighten me, you sure manage to muddle me more."

Hermione smiled grimly. "I'm sorry, but I know where you can begin to find clarification. We can go to your mother's cottage. That has to be where it all began."

"Did Lily tell you that?" he asked wryly.

"No," she smiled sheepishly, "but it's logical."

"There is nothing logical about this situation. For someone who claims to be so terribly practical you often contradict yourself."

"I have never contradicted myself." Hermione, clearly indignant, stalked past Harry and plopped in chair. She glared at Harry from across the room.

"A sensible girl who believes in magic...that isn't a contradiction." Harry muttered under his breath.

The electricity in the air smoked up the room, and Harry couldn't breathe. His life was changing because of this girl. He had never believed himself to be a man meant to amount to much. It had rarely occurred to him to want to be much of anything, because most of his life had been handed to him. He was born to take the title of 'Lord' when his father passed, and he was born to keep the Potter Estate strong. He'd never been given the liberty to change his course. Stupidity seemed to kick in the stomach. His world revolved around what he was supposed to do and not what he was meant to. He was beginning to realize he had options, even in those rigid times. And it was all thanks to 'Lady Practicality'.

He turned to Hermione who seemed to be a bit bored. "How long will it take to get to Lily's cottage?"

Hermione perked up, "A few hours. It's just past New Hangleton."

"If we leave now, do you think we would beat sunset?" Harry asked. Hermione bit her lip and shook her head no. Harry was rightly disappointed.

"Be sensible Harry. You've had a long day and you haven't properly digested all that you've learned. You'd be too overwhelmed to go today."

"How do I know I won't wake in the morning to find this really all was a fantasy?"

"That proves you're not ready to go. When you find me waiting by your bedside, then you'll know it was real."

"How do I know you'll come?"

"Because I am supposed to."

"Do you always do what you're supposed to do?" A thought charged into his mind.

"Why are you doing this? You seem like an almost normal girl. Why are you not married or searching for a husband? Do you really want to go gallivanting across the countryside chasing after a stranger's past or do you feel obligated to some old journals? If you feel obligated then in my concern you have done your duty. My family matters have burdened you long enough."

Instead of relief, Harry saw anger grow on her face. "I am unmarried by choice. I am perfectly capable of attaining a suitable husband and have seen a proposal in my day. I declined, because Lily saw a different mate for me though I hardly find him suitable. And, I thank you for your release, but it is not yours to give. Lily beseeched me to aid you and I accepted of my own will."

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm with a surprising amount of strength and forced him out of her room. Too flabbergasted to comprehend what was going on, Harry banged on her door. She opened it enough for him to see the slits of her eyes.

"What has gotten into you?" He asked incredulously.

"You know nothing about women!" she countered as she slammed the door in his face.

Harry found himself with few choices, but to walk out of the inn. The innkeeper had heard the tail end of the shouting match and smirked at Harry. He remarked on 'young love' as he ushered Harry out of the door. Still stunned, Harry settled himself on his horse and rode home. He was confident on that ride that he would never understand women nor did he ever want to.

He numbly returned his horse to the stable hand who asked if something had upset Harry. Harry grumbled no as he traveled to his quarters. He changed his clothes and traveled by carriage to the Weasley home for a dinner party. He hardly felt in good spirits, despite the antics of the Weasley siblings and the obvious attempts to attract his attention from all the unmarried maidens in town.

His mind kept journeying back to an angry Hermione. He hoped she would come to him in the morning. He hoped she would be the one woman in his life that didn't disappear without a word. Mostly, he wanted to see her again...to understand her erratic nature... to have her understand his nature...And, he wanted to hate her. She was the reason everything had changed and he could hardly resent her if she wasn't there.

Near midnight, he finally slept. He prayed she would come, though he knew he ought to have wished the whole ordeal a dream. He should have wanted for her to never exist, because she was sent to destroy him. Harry couldn't make himself wish for all the world she didn't exist, because he never took the easy way out.

As night smuggled in the dawn, Hermione collapsed: bloodied and nude at the foot of his bed.

* * *

Thank you all for your support and reviews! Thanks to my great friend Dying Star- thanks for the icecream. And thanks to whoever put me on a C2!!! The first half of the chapter may have been a bit confusing in connection with the last half, but it will all be cleared up next chapter. Thanks! 


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